


Supposed pain

by Poljupci



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mentions of addiction, References to Depression, aftermath of OotP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 01:36:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15523191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poljupci/pseuds/Poljupci
Summary: In the aftermath of the battle at the Ministry, Draco and Harry find a distraction from their pain, a distraction, unlike any others.





	Supposed pain

It was worse than being a house elf. Wanting to say something but not being able to, was the worst feeling Draco could experience. When he was smaller, he thought it was normal- that everyone's parents were like that. Then he hoped he would get used to it. Then he hoped no one would notice. Because people would talk and he wouldn't be allowed to say a word.

The thing was, everyone knew about the way Malfoys- and all the other "death eater" families- treated their children. They trained them to be emotionless, ambitious, presumptuous human beings. Everyone knew but no one has really known. Because none of the children could talk about it- not to the house elves, not to their friends, not to anyone...

Draco knew his parents well and at first, he was happy that they weren't harsher with their methods of getting rid of boiling rage- there wasn't a mark on his body- he was lucky. Later, he discovered that being covered in scars and bruises would be better than the pain he was suffering.

He couldn't say a word because they did everything for him! He should be grateful! And what was he doing? Arguing! Defending himself! How rude!

So after awhile, he started staying silent- he decided that it was easier to pretend to be a perfect son they wanted him to be rather than losing his voice in hopeless arguments. They would yell anyway...

He tried talking one time- sending anonymous letters to every single person he knew.

_Everyone has me; I have no one._

Out of dozens of people who received his owl, only two people replied- Pansy and some guy that thought he was talking about sex.

He lied to Pansy- saying that it had to be the cold that was talking (he was sick that time- one more reason for his parents to yell).

He jokingly responded to the other person's letter.

Then he shut up. He sobbed into his pillow, silently. He was a bad, ungrateful person. It was his fault that they were yelling-  _he knew that._ He also knew that he had his father's permission to pitch himself off his balcony whenever he liked. "Do you think someone would care?"

A strange girl caught him crying once. He barely glanced at her- a Ravenclaw with wavy, dirty, blonde hair and huge earnings. He tried asking her to leave- the bathroom he was crying in, was deserted and no other Hogwarts student had ever used it. She sat down next to him and him, a fool that he was, told her everything. What a stupid idiot... Telling the story just like that... Insulting his family after everything they gave up on for him to have a happy life. She said that he should talk to someone.

" _Dumbledore could help_..."

He laughed. If only it was that easy.

**.o0o.**

Harry thought he was the only one that hated summer break. He thought he was a freak because he wanted to stay at school the whole year.

He thought he was crazy because pulling old razors through his skin gave him such a relief.

He thought he was lucky he had friends that helped him fight but it all became too much- he was becoming too tired of it all. He could never kill himself, he knew that. The pain was suffocating him but he couldn't kill himself. Not because he didn't want to... Heck, every single atom in his body was telling him to cut vertical instead of horizontal... He just couldn't stand the fact that when his pain would be released it would crash into pieces and settle inside all of the people who helped him fight. It wouldn't be a lot of pain. Just enough so they would be hurt forever, but not enough to share it again- they would have to live with the monster growing inside them.

It was middle of July.

Harry's sheets were bloody again and the only person who dared to say something about all the glamour Harry was wearing was dead. He never felt more alone. He never wanted to be able to scream more than now but all his voices were muted, all his senses confused and all his tears lost.

Draco was crying in the bathroom again but no one came to comfort him this time- not that he expected someone to come. He never felt more alone now that Voldemort was officially alive. His father was in Azkaban but that only made things worse once he escaped.

Draco didn't doubt any of the Death Eaters will stay in cells for long and he was counting days until they won't be 'they' anymore until they will become 'we'...

The room was wet because of leaky faucets and tears and sweat because the hot air was leaking in through a broken window.

Harry waltzed in as he had many times before because he felt safe in this smelly room whose tiles came off too easily and whose toilets weren't meant to be used. He walked in, rushing to the right corner to grab his equipment hidden behind a broken tile that came of if you touched it ever so slightly. There was a small hole in the wall when Harry took the tile off and blond only noticed Harry's presence when the tile was dropped to the floor. Draco shot his head up, hurriedly wiping away wet cheeks and stood up, getting Harry's attention.

Surprise splashed Harry's face as he quickly shoved the raiser into his back pocket. The wand was in his hand quicker than a blink and in less than a heartbeat they were pointing at each other's chests ready to shot.

"What are you doing here, Potter?", Draco spat out, his voice harsh but still shaking a little. "Came to make fun of me? Brag about putting my father to Azkaban?"

Harry was looking at his for a moment. His wand lowered unconsciously. He opened his mouth to speak but when no sound came out he closed them and gulped. Draco's eyes glanced from Harry's wand to his face which showed pain Harry was trying to hide so much.

It was all in the eyes.

They both tried to hide it- how hurt they actually were. They mastered the art of fooling people to think they are fine. They built perfect masks to hide the truth that was too painful to be said. Harry scars were visible and Draco's weren't but they were both hurt- outside and inside. Both hurting themselves for the pain other people gave them.

Draco hesitated a moment, his eyebrows furrowed, but then he put his wand back in his pocket and took a deep breath. He watched as Harry put away his own and winced at the pain. He pulled his finger out of his pocket and brought it to his lips.

"Are you alright?", Draco stepped forward but Harry quickly nodded. He cut his finger on the piece of metal he quickly stored away when he noticed the Slytherin.

"Why are you here?", Harry murmured still sucking on his bloody finger- for some reason blood didn't want to stop. "No one comes here..."

"That's why I'm here," Draco answered reaching into his pocket trying to find cloth or something that might help the Gryffindor. He knew he had to be mad at Harry, that they had to be enemies but something told him that none of them was in that stupid bathroom that stunk of stale urine just because. He knew there had to be a good reason for Harry to come through this door and by the way he walked over to the corner it seemed like he had been here regularly or at least couple of times before.

"Just wanted to be alone...", Draco finished.

Harry nodded and accepted a handkerchief that Draco had found. It was pale blue with dark DM embroidered on the corner.

"Fancy...", Harry snorted.

"Oh, shut up," Draco laughed at they eyes met for a moment. It felt like they had something to say but they couldn't find the words to actually say it. It felt the language was suffocating them and trying to stop them from telling each other what they really wanted.

"A pathetic question but, do you come here often?", Draco made few steps, leaned against one of the sinks. As he touched the edge of it, there was a loud, unpleasant, crooked sound and soon enough, dirty, yellow water came splashing from the broken faucet.

"Fuck!", Harry hissed when his pants were splashed all the way down. He was cursing as he was walking away from the faucet that was now slowly dripping since something smelly and probably dead was stuck in its neck. Draco tried apologising but Harry brushed it off. He grabbed for his wand but he found an empty pocket.

"Need some help drying up?", Draco asked awkwardly.

"No...," Harry snorted. "I was just about to go swimming anyway..."

Harry made a few steps back towards the door and tried to get out of the room as quickly as possible but as he caught the edge of the door to slip out, a cut on his finger started bleeding again and he flinched at the pain. He cursed under his breath and Draco snorted at the sight before him.

It wasn't funny- their lives stopped being funny ages ago- but he just could help himself but smile at the pure evidence that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived was, after all, just a fucking human being.

"Not really sure I can let you go swimming in that condition," Draco smirked.

"It's just a bit of blood," Harry brushed him off and continued to suck on his pointer. "You seen my wand anywhere?"

"I was implying on your clumsiness," Draco explained his earlier statement and told Harry that he probably dropped his wand while coming here.

"I had it when I came here... And since when is my clumsiness a problem, Malfoy? I thought you enjoyed mocking me about things...", Harry asked with a tilted head. He bit his lip softly looking at Draco who seemed lost in thought...

"I should be angry at you, shouldn't I?", Draco almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the whole situation; Harry's wet pants, Draco's puffy eyes, broken tile, bloody finger, a razor in Harry pocket, Draco wand dropped on the floor, forgotten, the lightness of tone they were speaking in, the laughter that didn't dare to fill their eyes...

It seemed so simple yet their lives got more complicated by the minute. And Draco didn't know if he should laugh or cry 'cause they were fucking 15 years old. Lives shouldn't be as messed up as their were when you are 15 years old.

"I think you should hate me," Harry shrugged and wrapped his finger with Draco's handkerchief once more. He carefully pulled out the raiser to get rid of any chance of any further injury and hold it between his fingers for a moment.

The light was pale and brown. The windows that weren't washed for decades let in little of it and Draco Malfoy was watching the Gryffindor through dimmed, dusty air. Harry was looking at the blurred reflection of his broken face that appeared on the piece of metal that had done him so much damage. Deep, grey eyes couldn't look away from the clumsy creature before them. There was something about Harry that would drive Draco crazy sometimes. Like the fact that he had to hate him. Draco knew it sounded ridiculous... Why would he had to hate someone? But even Harry had said he was supposed to. Although the more he tried to hate Harry the more he realised he couldn't. The more he tried to see Harry's bad side, he realised that no one actually saw Potter's good side. No one saw Potter; not really anyway.

They saw a mask and Draco was afraid he was the only one that saw the pure existence of it. It made him want to puke because he knew how hard it was to hold it on. He knew what people thought- how easy it must be just to fake it all the time- but "the mask" was heavier than truth. It made him puke because he didn't want anyone to have to hold up something so incredibly difficult.

"Just as you hate me?", Draco asked with a little bit of nervousness lacing his question.

Harry just shrugged.

Minutes past in silence.

Both of them were trying to find the meaning of it all.

"So you really won't let me go swimming, huh?"

"Sorry Potter, can't risk losing our saviour to a little bit of water...," Draco tilted his head and sighed.

"What are you trying to say? That I can't take care of myself?", Harry questioned, a smirk playing on his lips. It was kind of amusing- talking to Malfoy.

"I'm just saying there is a possibility of you drowning and I don't think anyone would prefer that to you not going swimming."

"And what would you like to do? Go with me? Take care of me?", Harry was laughing at this point and Draco giggled as well.

"It would be an interesting sight, don't you think?"

"Oh yes... An amazing one," Harry nodded and sighed. He leaned against the wall and hold the raiser up. "Need it?"

Draco looked at the tool and wondered how many times has it tasted Harry's blood. He shook his head, hesitantly. He wanted to take it just so Harry wouldn't have it anymore but there was no doubt the Golden Boy would easily find a replacement.

"You sure?", Harry asked again. "It helps..."

"It doesn't... not really...", Draco murmured, his eyebrows furrowed. He imagined the lines spread across Harry's forearms, his thighs, his sides... Pale ones, fading, and the new ones still sensitive, and the ones that were yet to come, invisible at the beginning and then flashing red, bloody, painful, relieving...

"How would you know? You never tried it...", Harry tone was darker now, insulting, on edge... Draco knew the boy before he knew it only made things worse but he also knew that Harry would never let his relief shader by the truth.

"I don't need to try it to know it's bad," Draco whispered, stepped forward.

"It helps!", Harry's voice was echoing through the bathroom. Then there was silence. One more step made from Draco's place and Harry closed his eyes. His grip on the raiser was barely existent and Draco didn't doubt that the metal would fall to the ground if he hadn't taken it from Harry.

Draco threw the raiser into one of the stalls and placed his shaking hands onto Harry's shoulders. Slowly, slower... He was afraid of Harry's reaction because all of this - this whole scene- it was wrong. The whole feeling that occupied Draco's insides was wrong because  _why the hell_  would he want to help Potter? He had no idea what was he doing but Harry squeezed his eyes tighter and loosely placed his arms around Draco's waist. His finger was pulsing from pain and his eyes were stinging from tears but he didn't mind...

Something about Draco's speeding pulse made him forget about the pain and the tears and the fact that Malfoy was pulling him closer. Harry's mind seemed to forget about the fact that Draco was his enemy. Harry's mind seemed to forget that this was wrong. Harry's mind seemed to forget that there was a war starting outside. Harry's mind seemed to forget about everything but the warmth that was radiating from the tall Slytherin that nuzzled his face into the crook of Harry's neck.

"It's not helping... It's hurting you...", Draco whispered into Harry's skin, his voice almost breaking, his heart threatening to jump out of his skin, tears appearing in corners of his grey eyes. He couldn't understand why it meant so much to him. He couldn't understand why it felt so good to be wrapped around Harry. He couldn't imagine what his parents, or anyone for that matter, would think if they saw Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy at that moment.

"You don't get it, huh?"

"Get what?"

"It's supposed to hurt. The pain is crucially important. The pain is helping. It's creating the illusion and after all, it's not pain, blood or the feeling that helps but the illusion that it makes you feel calmer after you pull it through," Harry talked quickly, in low voice. "It's easy, quick, efficient."

"Just like any drug."

"Just like any illusion," Harry nodded. "All so bad, making so much damage... No matter if you smoke or drink or inject your drug into your veins, they all make so much damage but the illusion makes it seem like it's helping. And I know it sounds stupid and I know I should stop and it's bad and I know that I know it's bad but the illusion is making me feel better."

He stopped for a moment, catching his breath, glancing up at Draco. The blond said nothing and Harry continued, his hand clinging to Draco's shirt.

"It damages me, it breaks me but it can't break me more than the truth is breaking me. And if the illusion is making it all go away, why is it a bad thing that I want to keep it with me?", Harry was looking for an answer but Draco knew he could never give the Gryffindor the answer he wanted.

"What if there is another way? Another drug? Another illusion? One that wouldn't hurt you until the very end when you decide to get rid of it?", Draco spoke in a hushed voice that made Harry shiver and they locked eyes. Draco was serious but he knew he was walking on a minefield. One wrong move and everything that he had planned in last 15 minutes will be ruined- all the dreams that appeared clear in front of his eyes since the moment his arms wrapped around Harry will be broken.

"Haven't we just concluded that all the illusions are damaging?", Harry sighed tiredly...

"Oh yes but you said it is supposed to hurt- that the pain is essential for making illusion a good one...", Draco continued but Harry couldn't understand his words. "What if I offered you the worst drug of them all? The one that causes the most pain? The one that makes the illusion so strong you forget that it hurts?"

And then Harry was quiet. He finally understood. Draco's arms tight around him, Draco's voice hot on his lips, Draco's smell filling him inside, Draco's heartbeat echoing loudly in his mind...

Harry glanced at Draco's eyes one final time before agreeing and starting a new illusion. He took a new drug and indeed it didn't feel like it hurt him at all because Draco's lips were so soft against his and Draco's tongue so hot in his mouth and Draco's fingers so perfect in his hair and cold against the hot skin of his back and Draco's moans so arousing, so loud, so  _addictive_  ...

Harry couldn't make himself pull away because this new illusion was too strong for him to give it up. He didn't dare to open his eyes, he didn't dare to stop kissing Draco, he didn't dare to breathe... The illusion was the only way he wanted to feel from now on; he couldn't risk feeling the truth anymore.

But Draco pulled away, out of breath. He looked at Harry's flushed cheeks and his still closed eyes- he couldn't blame him for fearing the real world. Draco liked the illusion and now he finally understood. He understood the drawings carved into Harry's skin and he didn't dare say a word against the illusion because he felt it himself.

He felt the dark that was too bright and the silence that was too loud and the buzzing of neon signs that were occupying their colourful, dizzy minds as they were trying to float. The air was heavy, suffocating, closing their mouths, escaping their lounges, running away from the reality... He could smell the mind, the creation of the half-full world of unreal faces and blinded voices he would see once and then lose the memory that chained him to the illusion- to the purple moss of his security.

And when his lips touched Harry's again and when Harry hugged him tighter he knew that they were both right:

It was supposed to hurt.

And love hurt more than anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you've enjoyed, feel free to leave kudos/comment if you did!


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